


Influential

by leopardchic79



Series: A Series of Sometimes Fortunate Events [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Broken Bones, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Protests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22026496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopardchic79/pseuds/leopardchic79
Summary: Enjolras encourages a protest.  Gavroche breaks some bones.  Grantaire comforts.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Series: A Series of Sometimes Fortunate Events [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597462
Comments: 10
Kudos: 75





	Influential

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my very good friend, Elicia, who passed away a few months ago. She was an amazing writer and an even better friend & I miss her dearly.

Grantaire came home to find Enjolras in his apartment…something he couldn’t say if he had been expecting it or not. He’d taken off his shoes and curled himself into the corner of the couch, head propped up on his hand, staring straight ahead at nothing. The thought crossed Grantaire’s mind to ignore him, but it passed as quickly as it came. 

“Hey,” he said softly, sitting down next to him, but not quite close enough to touch. 

Slowly, Enjolras turned to face him, blinking a few times as he met his eyes. “No one will talk to me,” he said finally. His gaze dropped from Grantaire’s to an unseeing point on the floor. 

Grantaire raised an eyebrow in disbelief and smirked a little. Enjolras was nothing if not dramatic when things didn’t go his way. He also seemed a little disheveled. No one else would’ve been able to tell, but Grantaire knew all of his movements intimately. He was, after all, an expert in the study of Enjolras. “Are you drunk?” he asked. 

“Takes one to know one,” Enjolras snapped in return, words just the tiniest bit slurred. 

Grantaire smirked. “That’s easily the most ineloquent thing you’ve ever said to me, so I’ll take that as a yes.” 

He stood up and went into the kitchen, squeezing Enjolras’ shoulder as he went by. He found an empty glass in the sink and a bottle of whiskey on the counter. It amused him that Enjolras hadn’t put the bottle away but had already washed his glass. He came back with a beer for himself and a glass of water that he set down on the coffee table in front of him. 

Enjolras still hadn’t said anything else, was staring straight ahead at nothing, his hands clenched tightly together between his knees. 

Grantaire waited. He had to fight every urge he had to move closer, to wrap his arms around the other man and pull him close. To comfort. And he knew he would eventually…just not yet. 

Taking a long pull of his beer, Grantaire leaned back against the couch and watched him. Two weeks ago, they had decided to “give each other space.” It was something they’d tried before when their arguments turned uglier than usual. But they weren’t very good at being apart and it didn’t usually last very long. In fact, two weeks was a pretty long record. A part of Grantaire worried – _desperately_ worried – because wasn’t this just confirming his suspicions all along? That he wasn’t and had never been good enough for Enjolras. 

But that wasn’t the reason Enjolras was here now. Or at least not entirely. 

“I probably shouldn’t have…” Enjolras started and stopped abruptly. He waved his hand a little, indicating the rest of his sentence. 

Grantaire could guess the rest, but he was going to make him say it. “Yes?” 

His blue eyes looked up, going from unfocused to sharp – and glaring – for a quick second before he looked a little remorseful. “Didn’t Courfeyrac call you?” 

Grantaire nodded. “He did.” He knew he wasn’t making this any easier on Enjolras, but sometimes he needed to be reminded of consequences. 

“Gav asked for my advice,” he protested abruptly. “I didn’t think he’d get hurt. I never would’ve put him in danger intentionally.” He sounded a little desperate. 

“I know that,” Grantaire answered. “ _They_ know that. We just worry about him; it’s like he’s collectively all of ours.” 

Enjolras didn’t reply, but he didn’t seem to be so sure of Grantaire’s words. Seeing him even the least bit unsure about anything was disconcerting to say the least. He reached out and took a sip of the water that Grantaire had given him and then curled back against the arm of the couch. He still wasn’t really looking at anything. Grantaire wondered briefly how much he had drunk – knew it couldn’t be too much because Enjolras was nothing if not a lightweight – but knew that mostly, he was just lost inside his head. 

Courfeyrac had indeed called him earlier. Grantaire had been at the studio, working on a piece. The last thing he had been expecting was a call to tell him that Gavroche was in the hospital with two broken ribs and a broken wrist. When he’d asked what had happened, Courfeyrac had given the few details he’d known. Apparently, Gav had been leading a protest at his high school, things had taken a bad turn and he’d ended up in a fight. 

His first feeling had been fury at anyone who may have dared to lay a finger on the kid he considered a little brother. Then the word ‘protest’ had reached his brain, and he’d felt a surge of white-hot anger directed at Enjolras. Because Gavroche idolized Enjolras, and no one could say that this was entirely unexpected. Eponine usually tried to block her little brother from coming to any of their rallies or protests but was often unsuccessful. Now that he was sixteen, he wasn’t as easy to control. And he was a good kid, but willful. Grantaire was no longer as able to easily distract him with off-color jokes or snide comments as he used to. Gavroche _listened_ and paid attention now, and never so much as when Enjolras was talking. That was something Grantaire understood because Enjolras drew _everyone’s_ attention with ease. No one’s more than his own. But unlike Grantaire, Gavroche had been coming away _inspired_. 

He had apparently asked Enjolras for advice on planning a protest at his high school. Grantaire was murky on the details – something about climate change maybe – but things had gotten out of hand when a few kids had disagreed. School security had been called, a fight had broken out, and Gavroche had ended up in the hospital. 

After hanging up with a distraught Courfeyrac, Grantaire had called Combeferre who had given him the rest of the details – in a much calmer manner; including how he knew that Enjolras had helped Gav plan his protest. 

Word spread like wildfire through their tightknit group after that, but there was only one person Grantaire wanted to hear from, except they’d been tiptoeing around one another for two weeks now after their self-imposed “break.” 

It was of course, Eponine who had called him next as he was leaving the studio to come home. She had been quick to point her anger at Enjolras. Grantaire understood as that had been his immediate thought as well, but he didn’t think that was entirely fair, and told her so, and she had promptly told him to fuck off before hanging up. 

“Enjolras?” 

He repeated his name twice more without a response. Louder this time, “Apollo!” 

He turned to face Grantaire, eyes wide. Grantaire smirked a little bit and finally reached out to him. He curled his hand around his elbow and tugged. “Come on. Let’s go to bed,” he murmured. Enjolras let himself be pulled to his feet, let himself be led into Grantaire’s bedroom, even let Grantaire undress him down to his t-shirt and boxers. 

He stopped only when Grantaire pulled him towards his bed. “Aren’t we…broken up right now?” 

Grantaire frowned, stepped closer and reached up to curl his fingers into his hair. “Is that what you want?” 

It only took a second for Enjolras to shake his head. Grantaire dragged him closer, fingers tightening in his curls, and pressed their lips together. Two weeks was entirely too long to go without, and if Enjolras had been in any other state of mind, Grantaire would’ve happily dragged him into bed for more than just comfort. 

Enjolras’ arms came around him slowly but tightened quickly once they were there. He let out a choked sob against Grantaire’s mouth and pulled back to duck his head against his neck. “R…” 

“You taste like whiskey,” Grantaire murmured, smiling softly against his jaw. He tugged him into bed and underneath the covers. He held him tightly for a few moments, and Enjolras was quick to push closer, tangling their legs and burying his face against his shoulder. Grantaire slipped his hand to the small of his back and pressed his fingertips to his skin. 

“I really didn’t think he’d get hurt,” he said softly, breath warm against Grantaire’s skin. “He was so passionate about it; I just wanted to offer advice.” 

“I know. And I’m betting Gav isn’t the least bit angry or upset with you over this.” 

“You think?” 

Grantaire smiled a little and pressed a kiss to his lips, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair. “That kid is far too much like you nowadays.” 

Enjolras frowned slightly in reply, probably trying to work out if that was a good or bad thing in Grantaire’s estimation. But Grantaire kissed him again before he could think too much about it. 

“I know we all refer to him as a kid, but he’s really not anymore,” Grantaire went on when they broke apart. He pulled back a little so he could meet his eyes better. There was enough light from the outside street lights, as well as a lamp he’d left on in the other room that they could see one another easily. “He’s not the ten year old that Eponine couldn’t find a babysitter for so she’d bring him along to your meetings in college. He’s sixteen now.” 

Enjolras shook his head a little. “But I should’ve gone with him or something…supervised. He’s still not an adult.” 

“Well, technically no, but what were you doing at sixteen, Apollo? Probably also planning protests at your high school or something? Did you want a lot of adult supervision around?” 

Enjolras gave him a less-than-impressive glare. “That’s not quite the same thing.” 

Laughing, Grantaire pressed forward to kiss him again. “No, it’s _exactly_ the same! What sort of social-justice were you, Combeferre and Courfeyrac hoping to bring to your high school then? Free lunches? Getting some banned books back on the library’s shelves?” 

“What were _you_ doing at sixteen? Stealing your parents’ liquor?” Enjolras snapped in reply. 

Grantaire grinned. “Of course.” 

Enjolras rolled his eyes, but there was a bit of a smile on his lips. Grantaire was just happy that he didn’t look nearly as lost or upset as he had before. The moments that Enjolras doubted or regret an action were few and far between, but they always hit him hard. Over the years, Grantaire had slowly learned how best to comfort and distract him when he got lost inside his head. 

“I wish I had known you at sixteen, Apollo,” he murmured. He ran his fingers slowly up and down Enjolras’ arm, sometimes slipping up to the back of his neck and into his hair. He was nothing if not obsessed with Enjolras’ golden curls. 

He leaned closer and nipped lightly at his bottom lip, eyes darkening when Enjolras’ breath stuttered just a bit. “I would’ve given you a blowjob under the bleachers,” he teased, voice pitched lower. He was a little caught up in his fantasy all of the sudden. “I would’ve taken your virginity in a spare bedroom at a friend’s parents’ house.” 

“You already did that,” Enjolras replied, voice a little hoarse, cheeks flushed. 

Heat flashed through Grantaire’s eyes at that particular memory, and he crushed their mouths together again, kissing him deeply, all heat and tongue and _want_. He tugged him a little closer, one hand firmly against the back of his neck, the other around his waist, pressing them together from thigh to chest. He’d missed having him so close for the past couple weeks. 

When they broke apart, Enjolras whispered his name and buried his face against his neck, his breath a little quicker now as it came hot and damp against Grantaire’s skin. Grantaire shut his eyes and breathed him in, images flashing unbidden behind his eyes of that summer they’d spent with their friends at Cosette’s father’s lake house. Enjolras sharing his room, his bed, bravely asking Grantaire for more, ready and wanting to give him everything. And it had been…perfection. 

But now probably wasn’t the best time to relive that particular moment. Grantaire pressed a kiss to the top of his head and drew him in close, wrapping both arms tightly around his back. He felt Enjolras press his lips against the base of his throat for just a moment and it made him shiver. And it would be so, so easy to seduce him right now, but Grantaire knew him well enough to know that what he wanted more than anything was to be held. 

He was nothing if not happy to give Enjolras what he wanted. 

~*~*~ 

He woke up to a mess of golden curls and warm limbs. It was always a little bit shocking…like he’d stolen something he shouldn’t have. Enjolras in his bed, in his arms…no matter how many years they’d been together, it was still sometimes difficult for him to believe. Now, it had only been two weeks they’d been apart, but it was two weeks too long. Grantaire had missed him. 

Slowly, he let his fingers move through his hair, watching him sleep and reveling in their quiet closeness. He wondered briefly how Enjolras had been sleeping since their self-imposed “break.” He wasn’t quite as bad as he’d been in college, but he still needed to be told when to rest more often than not. 

Grantaire worried about him; he always had, but it had been more pronounced lately. He couldn’t quite say why…nothing drastic had happened. But maybe the circles under Enjolras’ eyes were a little darker as of late. Maybe he got lost inside of his own head more often than he used to…thinking about something he desperately wanted to change and wondering if he ever could. He was good at hiding how run down he was some days, but Grantaire could always tell. He’d made it his life’s work to study him, first from afar then up close after they’d gotten together. Even Combeferre for how well he could read his best friend didn’t always see everything that Grantaire did. 

Surprisingly, Enjolras slept for about a half hour more – he was usually an early riser, even after a late night. Grantaire continued to watch him, holding him close and smoothing his fingers through his curls. Watched and worried. 

Enjolras woke up slowly, limbs shifting, eyes blinking open only to squeeze shut again as he yawned and stretched his arms over his head. But then he made no move to get up, no move to disentangle himself from Grantaire. He met his eyes and smiled softly, leaning forward to press a warm, sleepy kiss to Grantaire’s lips. 

“Good morning,” Grantaire murmured when he pulled away. He reached up and slid his fingers through those blonde curls again and let his fingertips rest against the side of his neck. 

“Morning,” he replied. “I…I missed you,” he added softly. He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to Grantaire’s palm. 

His blue eyes were full of a love that Grantaire still wasn’t sure he deserved but was far too selfish to refuse. It made him shiver all over when Enjolras looked at him that way. He’d tried so many times to draw him with that look, but it never quite translated to paper. It frustrated him, because he was an expert at drawing Enjolras in all other aspects. But maybe it was a good thing. He didn’t particularly want to share that look with anyone else. 

“I missed you too,” he replied, pushing close to press another kiss to his mouth. “I hate seeing you with everyone else and not being able to touch you.” He wrapped his arms more tightly around Enjolras and held him close so that they were pressed together, foreheads touching, legs tangled. He wanted to shut out the world and keep him close. Sometimes he hated that he had to share him with anyone…their friends, the world he so wanted to change. And yet, deep down he knew he’d still always be grateful for whatever moments of attention Enjolras threw his way. 

Frowning, Grantaire lowered his head and pressed his face into his neck, breathing him in deeply and opening his mouth against his skin. It had been a while since he’d felt this shaken, and he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it inside. 

The first time they’d taken a small break from one another, Grantaire had panicked completely, thinking that he’d fucked up the thing he’d wanted most in the world for so very long. It had only lasted one day…ending dramatically with him in the hospital for nearly drinking himself into a coma. He’d woken up to find Enjolras at his bedside looking wrecked and it had made him ache. 

This time, _Grantaire_ had been the one to suggest they take a few days apart. He’d nearly taken the words back the instant they’d left his mouth, especially when he saw hurt flash bright in Enjolras’ blue eyes. But they’d been arguing steadily for two days, saying increasingly harsh things to one another, and Grantaire just wanted to stop before they broke. He didn’t think he’d survive if they ever broke up for good; he’d do anything to keep that from happening. 

It didn’t make it any easier though. 

“I don’t sleep very well without you,” Enjolras murmured suddenly. He pressed his hand against the back of Grantaire’s neck and let his fingers slide back and forth through his dark curls. “I almost came here three nights ago,” he went on, always seeming to know when Grantaire needed reassurance. “I was tired and trying to write an article and nothing would come out the way I wanted it to. I snapped at Courfeyrac on the phone when he called about something. I just kept thinking about all of the things I needed to do for work and the plans for the rally Combeferre and I want to hold, and the volunteer work I needed to find a date to commit too. I couldn’t…I couldn’t shut off my brain, and I felt like…” he trailed off, sounding tired still even though Grantaire knew he’d slept well last night. 

Grantaire pulled back and cupped his cheek in his hand. “Like you were crawling out of your skin? Panicked?” 

Enjolras swallowed hard and nodded. He squeezed Grantaire a little more tightly. “I couldn’t breathe,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what to do; I almost drove here but I could barely see straight so I didn’t think it was a good idea. But I....I just wanted to feel you close.” 

He sounded weary and shaken and all Grantaire could do was pull him closer. “You could’ve _called_ me,” he scolded gently. “I know how panic attacks feel, Apollo. I would’ve stayed on the phone with you. Hell, I would’ve driven over.” 

Enjolras smiled weakly. “I know. I thought of that later when I had calmed down.” 

“Can we agree that this break is over then?” 

Enjolras nodded eagerly in reply and kissed him. Grantaire whimpered softly against his lips and pressed his hand tightly to the back of his neck, deepening their kiss and keeping him close. He’d missed him more than he could say. 

“I love you,” Enjolras murmured against his mouth when they broke apart. 

Grantaire smiled at him warmly, feeling the words rush through him like they always did – despite how freely Enjolras gave them out now. “I love you too, Apollo.” 

They stayed close for a while after that, holding one another and talking softly about random, everyday things that they’d missed out on with one another in the past two weeks. 

But eventually, Enjolras brought them back to the night before. “I really should get up,” he said sounding resigned. “I need to go see Gavroche in the hospital. And maybe I can talk to him about his school protest.” 

Grantaire shook his head even as Enjolras was sitting up. He sat up quickly as well and reached out to grab his wrist and stop him from getting out of bed. “No,” he said firmly. Enjolras turned and looked at him questioningly. “There’s no way you’re doing either of those things today. Hell, you’re not leaving this apartment today, Enjolras,” he said harshly, eyes flashing with frustration. 

“But I need to--” 

“No,” Grantaire repeated, shaking his head. “You need to _stop_. Just for today. Please,” he added, voice sounding a little desperate to his own ears. 

Enjolras looked at him a little helplessly, as if he were unable to consider doing anything else. 

Grantaire sighed and rolled his eyes. He reached out and slid his fingers into Enjolras’ hand and squeezed. “First of all, if you go to the hospital now, Eponine will almost certainly punch you in the face,” he said flatly, a small smirk on his lips. Enjolras winced in reply. “And I don’t want your pretty face bruised.” 

At that, Enjolras fixed him with a familiar glare, but Grantaire was delighted with the way he also flushed. It was one of his favorite reactions to wring from him. It had taken him a while to accept Grantaire’s compliments – or starry-eyed _gushing_ might be more appropriate – on his physical appearance. Even now, he still mostly rolled his eyes, but the blush that appeared on his cheeks now always made Grantaire grin. 

“She probably hates me,” Enjolras said eventually, sounding resigned. 

Grantaire sighed again. “No, she doesn’t hate you. But she is royally pissed off with you right now. Mainly though, she was scared, and that’s hard for her,” he said gently. 

Enjolras and Eponine weren’t really close on a one-on-one basis. They liked one another well enough and for all her eye-rolling and outward scoffs, Grantaire knew she believed in most of if not all of Enjolras’ causes and desires to make things better. And Enjolras, he knew, always appreciated her help and contributions. “She knows you’re not responsible for Gavroche getting into a fight,” he continued. “But you know how close they are and it had to be a scary call to receive. Being angry with you was an easier response for her than feeling scared.” Grantaire knew that being scared wasn’t easy for her. She’d built her life on being strong and independent…getting herself and her little brother away from their horrendous parents, providing for both of them on her own while also putting herself through college, basically not taking any shit from anyone. She and Grantaire had grown close in college first borne out of a mutual pining for people who were oblivious to their feelings, and then genuinely because they enjoyed each other’s company. 

“She won’t be mad at you forever,” he added. “She’s angry with me now too.” 

Enjolras looked up at him and frowned. “Why?” 

“When she called to tell me what happened she blamed you for getting Gav involved with this protest. I told her that wasn’t fair and she told me to fuck off.” He shrugged; he didn’t blame her. 

“Did you really think that?” 

“Think what?” 

“That it wasn’t fair she blame me.” 

Grantaire looked at him steadily for a few moments; it was still unnerving sometimes to find that Enjolras knew him better than he thought he did. “OK, I _was_ pissed at you when I first heard what happened,” he admitted. He hated the way Enjolras’ gaze dropped at his words. Reaching out, he ran his fingers along his jawline and to the back of his neck, tugging gently at his hair until he looked up and met his eyes again. “I know it’s not your fault though. She’ll see that too. Just give her some time.” 

Enjolras was quiet for a few minutes, seeming to digest Grantaire’s words and advice. Eventually his restlessness won out though. “Well, if I don’t go see Gavroche, I should at least--” 

“No,” Grantaire interrupted. “You need to not do anything right now. I know that’s difficult for you, but I swear to god, I will build a barricade around the door if you try to leave my apartment today.” 

Enjolras glared at him, but Grantaire simply raised an eyebrow in response, daring him to argue. Eventually, he rolled his eyes, huffing angrily as he snatched his hand out of Grantaire’s and crossed his arms over his chest. “Can I at least get out of bed?” he snapped. 

Grantaire loved it when he pouted. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his scowling mouth. “If you must.” 

They moved around one another quietly for the most part after that. Enjolras took a shower. Grantaire made them lunch and glared at Enjolras until he ate most of it. They settled next to one another on the couch, TV on for background noise while Grantaire sketched him – something he denied whenever Enjolras asked what he was working on – and Enjolras kept up a steady back and forth between brooding and looking at his phone. 

Eventually Grantaire couldn’t resist. “What’s so interesting on your phone?” 

“Nothing,” Enjolras muttered. “What are you drawing?” 

Grantaire raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Nothing.” 

Finally, Enjolras leaned forward and let his phone clatter to the coffee table in front of them. He settled back against the couch, and this time pressed himself to Grantaire’s side. He crossed his arms over his chest and let his head drop onto Grantaire’s shoulder. 

Slightly concerned, Grantaire stopped sketching and pressed his cheek to the top of Enjolras’ head. “What’s up?” 

“Combeferre said I shouldn’t go see Gav yet, and to give Eponine some time,” he murmured, sounding resigned. 

Grantaire laughed. “I’m sorry, isn’t that what I said too?” He would’ve been offended had he not long ago realized how much Enjolras depended on Combeferre to help him figure out his thoughts and actions and how to reconcile the two. “And what did Courfeyrac have to say on the matter?” 

“How did you know I texted him too?” 

Grantaire scoffed. “If there’s one thing I know, Apollo, it’s you.” 

Enjolras leaned into him a little more. “He said I was an idiot, but Gavroche would be fine, and I should just wait one fucking second before I try to do something else. Then he sent a bunch of heart emojis.” He sounded fondly annoyed. 

“Anyone else?” 

Enjolras shook his head and pressed closer still, burying his face in Grantaire’s neck and slipping an arm around his waist. Grantaire set his sketchbook on the pillow next to him and turned to pull the blonde into his arms. He hated and loved when he sought out closeness and comfort from him. Hated it because he hated to ever see Enjolras sad or in pain; loved it because it was still slightly unbelievable to him that he wanted comfort – or anything – from _him_. He also knew that Enjolras would hate it if he ever voiced that particular insecurity aloud. 

“You need to take a break,” Grantaire said softly, pressing the words against his temple. He expected an immediate argument, but Enjolras was silent. And still. He held tightly to Grantaire with both hands and breathed steadily against his neck. 

“I can’t,” he replied finally, the words sounding desperate. “I don’t know how.” 

Grantaire squeezed him more tightly and simply held him closer. They stayed that way for a long time, until Grantaire finally pulled back and pressed one hand to the back of Enjolras’ neck. “I worry about you, Enjolras,” he admitted. “I’m scared that you’re going to burn out.” 

Enjolras halfheartedly scoffed at him, but he made no move to let go or pull away. “What, like I’m some corporate lawyer who’s been too busy to get to the golf course?” 

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “No, you idiot,” he said replied fondly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his pouting mouth. But his eyes filled with worry then and he tightened his grip on him. “I worry that you’ll burn out like…like a star. _Violently_. And it scares me.” He’d had these fears for so long that it felt strange to finally admit it out loud. 

Steadily, Enjolras met his gaze without looking away for a few moments. His blue eyes were full of uncertainty. “What would you have me do?” he asked quietly, words raw and pained. “I can’t…stop.” 

“I know,” Grantaire replied. “I _know_ that, Apollo. I…I’d never ask that,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But you…you need to take a break sometimes. Please,” he begged. 

Grantaire kept him close, pulling him so he was practically in his lap, arm tight around his lower back, other hand buried in his curls. He pressed soft, warm kisses to his throat, his jaw, and then his lips. Enjolras let himself be held, responded eagerly to the kisses and touches, happy for the closeness. Grantaire knew that no one else ever saw him this way. Enjolras was strong, independent, a natural leader. He loved his friends, yes, and he relied on them for many things, but it would never be said that he was needy or afraid to be alone or unable to fend for himself. But with Grantaire, sometimes he could let himself be vulnerable. It had been difficult for him to realize that initially, but Grantaire had been patient. He was _still_ patient…knew that it was difficult for Enjolras every time. Knew that it was still hard for him to say out loud: to admit that he sometimes needed the comfort, needed to let someone else take the lead. 

“I’d never ask you to stop,” he said again, voice low and soothing, next to his ear. “But let me take care of you.” 

“You do,” Enjolras whispered in reply. 

It was immediate and it made Grantaire’s heart ache in a very good way. And it gave him some much-needed courage for what he wanted to ask. He pulled back a little, hand at the back of Enjolras’ neck, thumb moving back and forth slowly beneath his ear. He smiled into tired and warm blue eyes and felt that same happy ache in his heart. He had never expected this love, but he’d do anything to keep it. 

“Not all the time though,” he answered softly. “Not when we’re…apart. Not when you’re across town and I’m here.” He took a deep breath. “That’s why I think…I want…move in with me, Enjolras.” 

He smiled crookedly, and resisted the urge to add something like, ‘you know…if you want to or whatever.’ He’d wanted this for a long time. It was often hard for him to ask Enjolras for things he wanted in their relationship as that voice in the back of his mind never fully went away. That voice that told him he wasn’t good enough for Enjolras and never would be, and he should shut up and take whatever he was given. He was good at speaking his mind when they were arguing, but at other times it wasn’t as easy. 

Enjolras’ eyes widened in surprise. He pulled back just the slightest bit, but never looked away, seemingly searching Grantaire’s face for something. 

A few moments passed and Grantaire’s heartbeat began to speed up with his nerves. He bit his lower lip and shook his head, finally dropping Enjolras’ searching gaze, heart aching painfully in his chest. He was just about to take it back when he felt hands on either side of his face, pulling his gaze back up to meet blue eyes that were a little watery and a very nervous smile. 

“Yes,” Enjolras said quietly. He nodded. “Yes, I’ll move in with you.” His voice was soft, but it was a tone that Grantaire recognized well. One that he used to prove his points, to argue with his opponents; it left no room for debate. 

Still, Grantaire was nothing if not able to doubt. “Really?” 

Enjolras smiled wider now, like sunshine from behind the clouds. He pulled Grantaire in for a kiss, pressing that smile to his mouth. “Yes, really,” he murmured, breath warm against his lips. “I love you.” 

Grantaire smiled back, dizzy with relief and happiness suddenly. He wrapped both arms tightly around Enjolras and kissed him back. 

~*~*~ 

Enjolras was dozing on the couch next to him, but he startled awake at the sound of his phone ringing. 

“It’s Gav,” he said nervously as he looked at the display. “He wants to face time.” 

“Well, answer it then,” Grantaire replied, going back to his sketching. He could feel Enjolras’ nerves radiating off of him, but knew he’d feel better if he talked to the kid. 

“How are you, Gavroche?” he asked as he accepted the call. 

Grantaire snorted with amusement at the serious tone of his voice and the use of Gav’s full name. His smirk only grew when he glanced over and saw the teenager rolling his eyes into the phone. 

“I’m _fine_. Jesus. Don’t look so fucking miserable. Did my sister threaten you?” he asked, sounding both annoyed and amused. 

Grantaire laughed out loud this time and received a glare from Enjolras. 

“Hi, R!” 

Grantaire leaned over and propped his chin on Enjolras’ shoulder so he could see the screen. “Hey kid. Feeling okay?” 

Gavroche rolled his eyes again. “Yes, I’m fine. Can you please tell that to Ep?” 

“Sure thing,” he replied, leaving out the fact that Eponine wasn’t speaking to him at the moment. He knew it would pass. Besides, he knew better than to tell Eponine how to take care of Gavroche. 

“Gav, I’m sorry that I—” 

“Don’t apologize,” Gavroche cut Enjolras off. “I was doing that protest with or without your advice. And those kids are asshole seniors who try to beat up anyone who thinks differently. They could’ve done the same thing on a random Tuesday when I was walking down the hall. It had nothing to do with the protest.” He paused for a moment. 

Enjolras had reached out unconsciously to squeeze Grantaire’s hand. Grantaire knew he was angry – but not with himself anymore. Grantaire also entertained a brief fantasy about finding said kids and punching them in their faces. 

“So otherwise…how’d it go?” Enjolras asked finally. And it was the right thing to say because Gavroche positively beamed at him. Grantaire smiled and went back to his drawing, paying only half attention to Gavroche giving Enjolras an excited recap of the event, and Enjolras’ increasingly proud responses. 

When they finally hung up, Grantaire glanced over to find him practically glowing with pride. He rolled his eyes. “Look at you. Proud to have sown the seeds of civil discourse with the next generation, huh?” 

“Shut up,” he muttered. 

Grantaire laughed. “You know, if Eponine ever finds out that you’re _proud_ of him for this, she will do horrible, unspeakable things to you. Even _I_ won’t be able to save you,” he teased. 

“Well then I guess we’ll just have to make sure she never finds out.” He grinned and leaned over for a kiss. “I’m glad he’s okay though,” he said, voice more serious now. 

Grantaire squeezed the back of his neck gently and smiled. “Me too, Apollo.” 

~*~*~ 

They stayed in for the rest of the weekend, making plans for moving in together…arguing over how to split up Grantaire’s second bedroom between his paint supplies and Enjolras’ many books. Grantaire watched him slowly relax and his worries lifted a little. 

The knock on the door on Sunday evening was to be expected. As was the bickering in the hallway. 

“Don’t any of them have to work tomorrow?” Enjolras muttered. 

Grantaire laughed as he made his way to the door. “They’re your friends too.” 

Soon the apartment was filled with their friends, pizza and beer. They were all nothing if not very codependent on each other, seeing each other through relationship troubles, the highs and lows of life and everything in between. But the buzz of happy chatter was a nice way to end the last few days; they’d all been worried about Gavroche. 

Feuilly, Jehan and Bahorel had gone to see Gavroche in the hospital and said he was his normal, energetic self and due to come home today. Jehan had talked to Eponine and invited her and Gav to come this evening, but she had politely declined. Gav, though willing, admittedly needed to rest at home for a few more days before going anywhere. And despite his sometimes huffy, teenage attitude, he did love and respect his sister more than anyone. 

As always, Grantaire kept his eyes trained on Enjolras whenever he could, but was relieved to see him smiling as he talked with Combeferre and Courfeyrac. Despite his grumbling, Enjolras had gone to the two of them nearly immediately upon everyone’s arrival. He knew just how close Enjolras was with his two best friends; the three of them had been family since high school. 

And that family had grown to all of the people in this room through college. Grantaire would be forever thankful that he was a part of it. 

Seeing as they weren’t, in fact, in college anymore and most of them had to work the next day, everyone left by about ten o’clock. Grantaire said his goodbyes and closed the door behind them and turned to find Enjolras next to the window in the living room; he crossed the room to stand behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. 

“I’m glad they came,” he said softly, settling his hands on top of Grantaire’s. 

“Mmm, me too,” he answered. He held him tightly for a few minutes, happy to feel that Enjolras was relaxed. Not as tense or restless as he had been before. Eventually, he turned him around and pulled him close to kiss him. 

“I told ‘Ferre and Courf that I’m moving in with you,” he murmured. 

“Did you? And what did they say?” 

He ducked his head a little and smiled shyly. “They said it was about time.” 

Grantaire laughed and kissed him again. He knew there was more there, but he didn’t press. He knew Enjolras well enough to know that he had been seeking their approval – especially from Combeferre. 

Enjolras kissed him back and held him tightly. He pressed his lips to Grantaire’s neck and breathed him in. “I love you,” he said warmly. When he pulled back his eyes were bright and the worry lines that settled so often on his forehead and around his eyes were gone. Grantaire knew they’d be back. Knew that the stress and restlessness and need to keep fighting would always drive Enjolras; it lit him from within. 

But he felt a little bit better about it now. 

Grantaire would always worry about him, would always argue with him, would always take care of him. 

“Come to bed, Apollo,” he said softly. “I’m sure you have something to fight for tomorrow.” 

“Maybe I’ll stay here instead.” 

Grantaire raised an eyebrow and gripped his hand, tangling their fingers together. “We haven’t even officially started to live together yet and already I’m a bad influence on you,” he said, smirking as he pressed a kiss to his jawline. 

Enjolras pulled back a little and pressed his other hand to Grantaire’s cheek. He shook his head a little, his eyes full of warmth and that love that never failed to make Grantaire’s heart skip a beat. “You’re good for me,” he admitted softly. 

Grantaire’s heart ached sharply with happiness and he squeezed Enjolras’ hand tightly. He leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you. Always.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I recently saw Les Mis again (for like the 900th time) when the touring company was in town, and immediately felt myself drawn back into this fandom & this pairing whom I absolutely adore. But this is the first fic I've finished writing in AGES & I'm super happy about that!


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